bourdain

Last week, a food mag publisher took me to a truly time-warp lunch at LE VEAU D'OR on East 60th Street. Open since 1943, the menu appears to have changed not at all since ; a compendium of lost bistro classics, deposited on the plate sans-garnish of any kind. The room is dusty, forlorn, with a mix of East side mummies and devoted solo afficianados sitting on weathered banquettes. ( A stranger waylaid me as I stoked up on nicotine out front: "Oh!! You know about this place!! It's SO great! This is my special place! Don;t tell anyone about it!) The ancient proprietor (the sole server)--in black and white waiter garb--throws your coat over a disused table and seats you. Drinks are said to often be self-service from the bar. It's the Restaurant That Time Forgot. I had celeri remoulade, my friend the leek (poireau) vinaigrette, followed by rognons de veau dijonnaise over white rice (and navarin of lamb). As regular MENU items, they continue to serve brains in beurre noir, and tripes a la mode de Caen and other dino-classics. I had Isle Flotant (!!) for dessert. The food was much better than I expected, dead-on authentic (indistinguishable from similar run-of-the-mill Parisian joints) and LOTS of fun. For ambiance and presentation, a true step back into a past I thought had disappeared decades ago. Which leads me to a question: Anyone been to Tout Va Bien lately?

This man is clearly an idiot.

Good choice.

Why does everyone feel the need to claim their doctor is the very best in their field. My dad is notorious for this and it gives me vast satisfaction and amusement to query his assesment of his medical professionals' skills. Everyone I've ever known to need any type of specialist whatsoever has been fortunate to get attention from the very top practioner in their field. Statistically speaking, alot of you must be receiving substandard care, because I know for a fact that I've never spoken to an average doctor in my life, nope, only the very best and brightest for me. I suggest a cursory Google of the good doctor.

The doctor's name was Mehmet Oz.. I hear he's pretty good.

He's getting some serious ballbusting for that. Believe me.

Sorry, Girth Guy. And I got more bad news for you. The "girls" are telling me they are "soo over" Mix. You better get them that table at Per Se soon--or you won't be able to work their corner no more.

Took two visiting friends from the UK to Le Bernardin on Friday. Sat down, started hitting the champagne and salmon rillettes hard and a waiter tells me "The Chef would like to see you in the kitchen." I walk upstairs to the banquet kitchen where Ripert introduces me to a gentleman in full chef regalia, (forget his name) as the country's "premier heart surgeon". He and Eric have "traded jobs" for the week, he announces. Eric has been working at the hospital observing, learning how to suture heart valves (working with pig's hearts). "I am good now," he says . "One hand!" while the doc learns to filet fish and cook. "Is he any good?" I ask. "Yes," says Eric. "Very good". ( The doc was making neat work of a rouget while we talked) Then he opens the door of a convection oven and shows me what they've been collaborating on: a calf's heart, stuffed with foie gras and sweetbreads, neatly sutured. It's slow roasting in a braising pan with mirepoix and fresh herb. Back at the table, we had an astonishing selection of seafood dishes--the very best of which was the famous pasta with sea urchin and caviar. My Brit friends--one of whom is a notoriously (some say poisonously) acerbic food critic were, of course, blown away. But the wacky highlight of the evening was the "extra course" of calf's heart. A pink and wonderful slice of tender, juicy and delicious meat, with the above filling. Not at all like the tasty but chewier, cooked-through ox hearts I've had previously. Even those reluctant to delve into the wonderful world of offal would, I think, have found it alluring. Not "livery" or "kidneyish" at all--in every way a delight. I'd say more, but there was a magazine journo in residence, chronicling this bold experiment--and I don't want to step on his story. Sad to say I doubt this promising item will be appearing on the fish-centric Le Bernardin menu anytime soon. But I think Ripert is really onto something good.

Writing an intro for this book was perhaps the single proudest accomplishment of my life. I cherish basking in Fergus' reflected glory.

Like the man said.

My best reading on the situation,based on what he said to me at one time and what he's expressed to others is this: Keller's highest priority is ensuring the continuity and security of The French Laundry as one of the leading culinary "institutions" in the world. Long after he's gone. He has mentioned Taillevent as a model in that regard. "Do you know the chef's name at Taillevent?" he asks. I think he's doing the best he can to look after and provide for his baby well into the future. Like any working chef, he knows his days are (and should be) numbered. He's been living NEXT TO his kitchen for years, absolutely focussed on the details of every aspect of the business. And of course he has a crew of ridiculously talented and loyal chefs, cooks and proteges who he's worked with for ages who he would like to see move up--yet keep in the family. In short, he's planning for the future--both as prolongued exit strategy and as a way of taking care of the people, places and institutions he cares about. (Remember, he must support a whole network of small farmers and purveyors as well). As far as the New York store, I guess (I hope) that there is an element of unfinished business. I say I hope so because Rakel was by most chef accounts, wonderful. And as far as I know, he hasn't endorsed or branded any crap. Ever. California raisins--while not something I'd do--aren't in any way "bad". And I'm guessing the Limoges is good merch. The "Grey Kunz Sauce Spoon" is one my absolute favorite kitchen toys...so why can't Keller get in on the action. That he shuttered the Napa store while he gets Per Se up and running is a measure of his commitment. Most other chefs, not wanting to slow the revenue stream, would likely have tried juggling it all. So it's a little early to describe Keller's latest moves as "Emerilizing" or "Going Bayless". He's hardly the performer Emeril is--or defector like "BK". I dearly hope it all works out brilliantly. And the thought of Keller and SO getting in two or three months of beach time is for me, always reason to smile.

Coming Soon on ABN! 6 hours a day of The Simpsons, with focus on any episode containing monkeys or references to monkeys (always a mark of quality). All New Episodes of The Wire (best thing on television) twice a week. Ditto The Shield. Frequent Blackadder, Chef, Sandbaggers, Boiling Point marathons. Errol Morris "Doc Block" Next season's Sopranos episodes--all of them--premier all at once--no waiting. My Country My Kitchen--including The Missing Episodes (Ramsay, Ripert)- New Series!"FILM JUNKIE" with Host, Martin Scorcese. This week:The Magnificent Ambersons with Miraculously Restored Missing Footage: Director's Cut. Next Week: Apocalypse Now--Milius Opening Scene, Harvey Keitel as Corporal Willard. New Series! "EXPLOITATION!" with Host Questin Tarantino. This Week: Quentin introduces yet another film he gleefully ripped off: Ringo Lam's "City On Fire" Next Week: Dolomite series begins. New Reality Series Pilot: "Donald Trump Gets His Head Shaved--and His Stupid, Self-Satisfied Face Pushed In By Tweaking Crackheads" And on ABN2: Live feed from the Halliburton grand jury proceedings.

The book is being re-released in the UK from Bloomsbury. Soon.

THE WHOLE BEAST: Nose To Tail Eating( Ecco), the legendary cult classic from St John's Fergus Henderson will be released March 30th. Brit reprint coming as well.

"Personally, I would like to see our dear friend Mr. Bourdain take a shot at the Times critic post. What should be the qualifications of the Times critic anyway?" As I've said elsewhere, I am waay too mobbed up with cronies in the business, owe too many favors, have too many deeply held, publicly stated likes and dislikes to ever be a food critic. And the job sounds like a misery. But my choice of best candidate for the job? Amanda Hesser. Okay. I HATE the Mr. Latte stuff. But: She's not "bent". She can write. She actually knows what she's talking about. She appreciates the fine works of Fergus Henderson. All the above distinguish her as far far better a choice than any of the names being bandied about. That there is apparently a "Mr. Latte" TV series in development is not, I hope, an obstacle. She's a fine writer when she choses to be, seems to handle even odious assignments with only slightly gritted teeth (see recent Jamie Oliver puff pieces), and would do, I think, a very good job.

Terribly sorry about the misspelling of your name. Really. Sloppiness is the least of my sins. Not that it's important , but I did think your review was fair. I agree with the conclusion (number of stars). And I've always enjoyed your writing . But I do tend to get a little fire and brimstone about offal. Spanish offal in particular. I'm obviously a fervent supporter of all things Mario and I felt, I have to admit, personally offended that you appeared to miss what I believe best and most important about both Batali and the kind of place he's trying to recreate. I also tend to view "Fear of Cow's Head" in apocalyptic terms: as a threat to everything and everybody I believe in. The allusion to Mad Cow--in the review--was, I still think, alarmist. Lighten up? Yeah....Not the first time I've heard that.

The dish in question is NOT a brain dish.

Note to restaurateurs: Remember to send a set of steak knives--or at least a Whitman sampler--to Fat Guy every Christmas. You never know.

Ahh!! Yes, it's possible. That would be shrewd. I hope that's the case.

Yes. Mmmmmm.....brains....

"An end to pretense"? Huh? Say what you will about Grimes. To his credit, you could NOT reach the guy. He avoided foodie cluster-fucks like the plague. Most restaurant people STILL couldn't recognize him if he stood right in front of them. And he had no history of corruption, coercion, commingling with his subjects. He was, truly, as "unknown" a quantity as one could hope for, whatever you think of the results. He was--even when wrong--fair, I think. Whether Ruth, Bryan Miller, or Mimi Sheraton..the Times always TRIED--and tried HARD to be fair and impartial and incorruptible, making the extra effort to avoid even the perception of favoritism or agenda. That some reviewers had a clear preference for French over Italian--or less of an understanding or affinity for some cuisines over others was inavoidable--but not fatal. I agee that "pretense" plays a huge part in most--if not all--other NYC reviewers--and that the system is (perhaps inavoidably) bent. And that Grimes was, on occasion, guilty of (perhaps knowingly) buying into the "pretense" that, for instance, Bobby Flay works the line every night at Bolo--and personally designs and supervises every dish. (An assumption as unfair to Flay as it is to the reader/customer) But this is the TIMES we're talking about! They should continue the tradition of at least making their BEST EFFORT to retain anonymity, objectivity and freedom from taint. Millions of dollars and the futures of many a small businessman, chef and employee rest (rightly or wrongly--that's the way it is) with the Times review. To devalue that would not be a good thing. Look at the alternatives: You trust a review when the reviewer is getting free brunch delivered to their apartment on Sunday mornings from the subject? Or seeing them socially ? Or having their travel and hotel expenses paid for by a consortium of eager-to-please restaurateurs? Or when the editors of a ubiquitous (Only Game In Town--and It Better Be--or else) guidebook call up subject chefs and shake them down for Viking ranges at cost? I see no positive side to embracing this kind of bullshit--which is--as you know--endemic. While there is room for this kind of "roving enthusiast", it's inapropriate at the Times--and would be a terrible departure. To open the door--and embrace--this kind of libertarian free-for-all would be a starting pistol for every schnorrer, deadbeat, grifter, shakedown artist and blurb-o-mat in NY. And there's no shortage of these. And the "marquee" option is another road straight to hell. You want Candace Bushnell reviewing your restaurant? Neither you, nor I, nor Jay McInerny, nor anyone who's spent as much time in the pond as we have should be the New York Times Restaurant critic. This is NOT to say, of course that we don't have things of value to say--or that what we say can't be true and useful and illustrative. We just shouldn't do it in the Times review.

Uh...Fat Guy. I see no diminuition of Mario's zeal for this kind of stuff. If anything I see an increase. At Mono, he personally pushes the hoof and guts route to customers--insisting that they try the boudin and tripe... and cockscombs . His next place is called the freaking Spotted Pig for Chrissakes--and he mentions (frequently) the St John influence/example. His mania for charcuterie--and homemade head cheese at no less-than 3 of his restaurants (and the Wine and Cheese joint) is fervent and vigorous. Cheeks and meat-from-the-head are constant features and he was serving BRAIN-crusted lamb-chops at LUPA on a recent visit.. I don't see any kind of shrinking away from the theme. It's always been a balance--as risky a one as he feels he can get away with. The priorities, I think, have stayed the same--if not gained in momentum. Who ELSE in NYC would be a better poster boy for offal? Even at Les Halles-with a large French clientele,and all my prostheletizing we can't move anywhere near as much guts and snouts as he does.. See also his cover blurb for the new edition of NOSE TO TAIL. It says something along the lines that eating at St John made him want to burn Babbo to the ground and start over. (He will be hosting an event for Fergus in March in support of both book, author and shared philosophy)

MKULTRA! Nice screen name (obscure/sinister historical reference)! And I'll say it again: LUPA. Anecdote: Star-struck foodie approaches Mario. " I'm only in town for a few days.. Which one of your restaurants should I eat at? Which is the best one?" " Lupa." Count for anything? And if you're lucky enough to go "off the menu" with chef Mark Ladner at Lupa; it's one of NYC's singular delights.

I should point out that I enjoy Marion Burros' writing--and don't really hold her responsible for what I found offensive about the Casa Mono review. I agree with the general thrust of the review (and the number of stars awarded). And I credit her with being upfront and honest about her likes and dislikes. My gripe is that when assigning a writer to review a Batali restaurant (an important review, yes?) the first question asked of the potential revewer should have been: "Do you like tripe and head cheese and guts and oily little fishes?" For Chrissakes, this stuff is CENTRAL to Batali's whole world view! He's been New York's principal proponent/advocate of this kind of less-accessible traditional fare. Guts and hooves and ears are a UNIFYING theme in most of his restaurants--and if one single factor distinguishes Batali from othe "celebrity" chefs, it's that he has to an evangelical degree, used that celebrity to seduce/coerce/cajole American diners into eating what was once, for many, unthinkable. When he opened Babbo, Batali, exploiting his celebrity, could very easily have chosen the path of least resistance, given the public what conventional wisdom dictates they "want", and served up overpriced but accessible linguine pommodoro and upscale/expensive versions of familiar fare. Risk free--and more profitable. Instead he chose another, nobler route--and had the balls, instead, to indulge his true passions. To assign a reviewer who is indifferent--or hostile--to both Batali's raison d'etre--and to much of traditional Spanish fare is contemptuous of both the chef--and readers. The article described a room--without mentioning or describing the 6 ton elephant standing in the center (beyond a mention that it smelled like elephant in there--and that the author didn't particularly think she wanted to encounter any pachyderms).

I like Jay. And I think he'd write a good dining column--from the point of view of a long-time, seasoned night-life afficianado, restaurant-goer, and wine and food enthusiast. But as THE New York Times restaurant critic/reviewer? No way. Mistake (ie: a step down) for him, and an historic break/change of direction for the Times in that any pretense of anonymity, separation of writer/subject would be lost. Jay's wrong for the same reason I would be wrong for ANY critic/review position: We've been around too long, know and are friendly with too many people in the business--and have benefited from their largesse and their discretion on too many occasions. Jay's a known quantity. If not "reachable",fairly or unfairly, he will always APPEAR to be reachable. Hell, people would be asking him for autographs while he reviews a restaurant! There is also, of course, the lack of real expertise/experience to consider. It's a telling thing that the Times are even considering him. (And seriously, it's said)This would be a horrifyingly transparent and cynical switch to "marquee" value over substance for the Times, the Dining section version of the egregious, witless, pained and painful ascent of Boldface Names (the Times version of Grandma putting on high-tops and attempting to break-dance--and thinking it's hip all the way). The Times just doesn't/shouldn't do "hip". It's not why we love them. It's not what they're good at. The recent articles in the Style section on some ludicrously goofy-ass bonehead in a Jamiroquoi hat who presents himself as a Master Pick Up Artist--and the even dumber annual article on the Lower East Side are best examples of why the Times should leave that shit to others.